


Beside The Throne

by behindtintedglass



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behindtintedglass/pseuds/behindtintedglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vision of the future collides with Arthur's memory of something Merlin told him in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beside The Throne

**Author's Note:**

> "I never wanted the throne. I only ever wanted to be your equal."
> 
> \- Loki to his brother Thor

Arthur staggers backward as his vision whites out and the sheer force of the images— _prophecies,_ his mind whispers—renders him breathless.  His knees buckle and he leans against the stone wall of the cave as he wills his limbs to stop trembling.  It takes him a while to realize that he is still tightly clutching the crystal in his hand.  Merlin’s voice, quiet, resigned, and inexplicably sorrowful, is still echoing inside his head.

_'I only ever wanted to be your equal.'_

“What,” he gasps.  ”Is this supposed to tell me?”

Beside him, the old man— _the sorcerer_ —watches him with eyes that seem to pierce through his armor, under his skin, inside the marrow of his bones. “The truth,” the sorcerer quietly answers.

“That  _can’t_ be the truth!” Arthur lashes out.  He throws the crystal onto the ground, where it shatters into a thousand shining pieces.

Merlin’s tears are glistening in each one of them.

Arthur curses as he rapidly shakes his head, trying and failing to rid himself of the images torturing him behind his eyes.

“And why not?” the sorcerer queries calmly.  ”Are you blind to the truth that is laid bare before you, Prince of Camelot?”

_'I never wanted the throne.  I only ever wanted--'_

“That can’t be the truth.”  Arthur finally looks up and meets the sorcerer’s fathomless gaze.  Oddly enough, it is the sight of those mysterious eyes that finally eases his erratically beating heart.  ”Because I already  _know_ that.”

The sorcerer cocks his head to one side, pondering.  ”Oh?  What  _do_ you know?”

Arthur thinks back to the visions revealed to him here: The Crystal Cave, the sorcerer had said, where he is to see everything that will be.  He remembers the heavy crown resting on his head, remembers rising from the throne that is now his… and remembers looking  _down_ at Merlin, who is still wearing his ragged servant’s clothes, bowing to him, pleading, shaking. 

He doesn’t understand the disappointment in Merlin’s eyes.  He can’t  _bear_ it.  He can’t  _accept_ it.

“I already know,” Arthur says quietly.  ”That he never sought the throne.  He… That’s…” He takes a deep breath.  ”That’s what he wanted for  _me._ But that’s not what he wanted for himself.”

The sorcerer narrows his eyes.  ”And what does this…  _Merlin_ want?”

“A place to belong.”  The sorcerer’s eyes widen at the certainty in Arthur’s voice.  ”Home.”

Something in the air changes.  They can feel it thrumming in the walls, sizzling against their skin.

“And you think…”  The sorcerer’s brows furrow curiously.  ”That this home he seeks… is by your side?”

Clutching the steady weight of Excalibur by his side, Arthur strides away from the sorcerer and towards the mouth of the cave.

“You are presumptuous, young prince.”  The old man’s raspy voice, amplified by the echoes within the cave, stops him in his tracks.  ”Why do you claim to know what this  _Merlin_ desires above everything?”

A smile tugs at Arthur’s lips.  ”Because he told me so.”

A heavy pause.  Then: “What did he tell you?”

Arthur raises his hand to gaze at the sword he holds, the sword that Merlin has kept safe for him. For  _years._

“He told me once, a long time ago, that the reason he left Ealdor was because he wanted to find a place where he could fit in.  I asked him if he already found it, and the idiot said he wasn’t sure.”

The light of the crystals bounce off Excalibur’s blade.  In it, he can see the reflection of sorcerer behind him as the old man’s eyes widen in surprise.

He drops his hand, looks over his shoulder, and grins at the old man.

“Seeing how incompetent he is, if he can’t  _find_ that place where he fits, I’ll just have to  _create_ that place for him.”

And with a final flourish of his sword, sliding it back in the scabbard, Arthur smiles at the sorcerer and steps outside the cave where the Knights are waiting.

At the Prince’s words, the crystals in the cave stop glowing for a moment.  Intrigued, the sorcerer crouches down and picks one up.  The crystal comes alive at his touch, but this time, the light is different.

“ _The Once and Future King finally seals the fate of Albion_.”  The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes crinkle into an amused smile. “The prat did a much better job at changing the future than I did.”

And with that, The Last Dragonlord disappears back to his own time. Back to his King.

And his place beside the throne.

 


End file.
